


one is the loneliest number - but it's better than two, when the two is Noiz

by truejaku (hereonourstreet)



Category: DRAMAtical Murder, DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:51:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4808642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereonourstreet/pseuds/truejaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Koujaku heads to America to tell Aoba how he feels, even though he's been with Mink for months. Somehow, Noiz finds a way onto the same flight as him. When Noiz points out that they're flying to JFK -- but Aoba is in Arizona, Koujaku flips. They have to find a way from New York City to Arizona.</p>
<p>That's how Koujaku ends up on a cross-country road trip with Noiz. The person he likes least.</p>
<p>[Noijaku road trip fic for my friend <a href="http://phillipmcgraw.tumblr.com/">Em</a>! Includes: side Minao. Will update tags as I go. Only the prologue is posted for now.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toue/gifts).



            It’s been six months since Aoba left. It’s been enough time for Midorijima to settle back to normal, for Aoba to fall in love with a criminal halfway around the world, and for Koujaku to realize he’d done the same with his best friend. Of course, it hasn’t been six months that this romance has been building. It’s been twenty years, and Koujaku is only angry that it took him so long to figure it out. Maybe not to figure it out – to accept it. It was easy to be head over heels for Aoba when he refused to admit it. Well, not easy, but it wasn’t as painful as finally acknowledging it only to realize it was too late. Aoba was gone. He was in America – with Mink. With the felon who Koujaku is sure hurt Aoba – he doesn’t know how, but he’s positive that he did. He can’t even say for sure that it was physical, but something happened between them in Oval Tower, and Koujaku’s heart sinks knowing Aoba would never tell him what it was.

            Koujaku’s heart sinks knowing Aoba didn’t tell him a lot of things. There’s an entire experience of Aoba’s life now that doesn’t include Koujaku – an entire experience that’s going to inform the rest of Aoba’s life, and Koujaku wasn’t even an afterthought. He didn’t factor in at all. This was just between Aoba and Mink, even though twenty years of their lives were based solely around each other. Okay, maybe not solely – maybe not solely for Aoba – but even the years they didn’t see each other were defined by their separation. It was the exception that proved the rule: _our lives revolve around each other. We’re best friends. We’ll always be best friends._

Mizuki doesn’t so much wince as he simply rolls his eyes when he hears this all now. Maybe it was that he was saddened at first that Koujaku didn’t consider him his best friend – which wasn’t true anyway, he was simply Koujaku’s _other_ best friend – but now all he does is tell Koujaku that he has to get over it, which is not what Koujaku wants to hear. Well, whatever – ever since Mizuki got that young little “penpal” from Germany, he’s been completely self-absorbed.

            So when Koujaku waves his Coil in Mizuki’s face the night before he’s set to leave, Mizuki doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Of course not – he was too distracted to hear Koujaku tell him this twice already.

            _“Where?”_

_“A – mer – i – ca,”_ Koujaku says, punctuating each syllable with a slap on the bar counter. “I spent all the money I have right now on this ticket. One way. Because I’m not coming back.” Mizuki’s eyes actually widen for once. He opens his mouth to say something but is silent for a moment before he figures himself out:

            “Koujaku, no,” he says. “No, no, no, no… what the hell, no. Are you nuts?”

            “No, and if you want to stop me, you should have stopped me three days ago, when I first told you I was going to buy the ticket.”

            “What?”

            “You’re too busy fucking some guy over the Internet to even give a shit about me anymore,” Koujaku says.

            “I fucking heard you say it three days ago, you dumbass!” Mizuki shouts. “I just didn’t think you’d really fucking do it.”

            “ _Well_ , I did.”

            “ _Well,_ ” Mizuki imitates loudly, “you’re a fucking idiot.”

            “I told you how I feel about him,” Koujaku says. “You were there. All those nights. You talked me through this whole thing. You _know_ how serious this is.” Koujaku’s voice drops low, grave. “I _have_ to tell him.”

            Mizuki’s eyebrows falter in sadness and he pulls Koujaku outside. It’s chilly outside tonight. It’s probably the same in America, too. He checked the weather for the dates he’d be there.

            “This isn’t a bad idea because I don’t care about how you feel,” Mizuki says. “I care about you. And I’m sorry that you’re hurting so much right now. But this is a _bad idea_. It’s a bad idea because you’re going to get there and he’s going to look at you like, _‘Koujaku? What the fuck are you doing here?’_ and you’re immediately going to realize how stupid it was and you’re going to feel even worse. And I’m not saying I won’t be there for you, but I don’t _want_ to be there for you, because I don’t want you to _feel_ that bad in the first place.”

            Koujaku furrows his brows at his friend. Now he’s the one with the softer, genuine voice; he really wants Koujaku to listen to him now. But he should have thought of that before he started picking some Internet twink over his best friend.

            “I’m going,” Koujaku says.

            “You’re going to get hurt,” Mizuki replies.

            He doesn’t bring Beni on the trip, because the thought of breaking him is too much, and he shouldn’t need more than a Coil anyway. He’s not sure what American Allmate culture is, so a small, talking bird might cause more attention than it’s worth.

            Koujaku throws up on the bumpy plane ride to the mainland. So much so that he has to use his neighbor’s barf bag as well as his own. He’s never done well with turbulence, but he’s sure to fare much better on a bigger, more stable plane. He has to apologize for his disturbances as he disembarks and still manages to get two phone numbers from girls endeared by his humility.

            Still, he only has eyes for Aoba.

            He admits he has most of it planned out: the plane will get in late, and he’ll have to map the route to Aoba’s place through his Coil. But the address he has for Aoba isn’t exactly where he lives. That’s what Aoba’s told him, at least. His cabin with Mink is tucked far away into the woods, secluded from most city life, and Mink picks up the mail from the post office on the way home. He has some vague notion of talking the post office workers into helping him find Aoba’s actual location (he simply hopes it’s mostly, if not all, women working that day). If worse comes to worse, he’ll have to wait for Mink to show up and follow him back. Or maybe he’ll confront him right then and there. Wouldn’t that be dramatic. Koujaku has been working out a bit more than usual lately. He may despise Mink with every fiber of his being, but he’s not stupid: Mink could beat the shit out of him any day of the week. If it comes to fists, Koujaku wants to be prepared, and airplanes don’t allow katanas.

            …Okay, so the logistics aren’t exactly planned out. That’s because he was too focused on what he was going to say to Aoba when he finally got the chance:

            _“Aoba, I love you. No. Not like that. Do you really think I came all this way just to tell you that I love you the same way we always used to say to each other? I don’t mean just as friends. I don’t mean the way I love Mizuki. I mean – I_ love _you. The way Mink pretends he loves you. I know it’s out of left field – I know. And I don’t know for sure if I’d ever feel this way for another man but you, but I’m sure of it with you: I_ love _you. I have to be with you. And I’m so sorry it took me so long to realize it. When I think of how I want my life to end, I think of you. When I think of the person I want to be with the most, of everyone I know, I think of you. When I think of who would understand me best, who would be there unconditionally, and who would listen to anything I needed to say – I think of you. You’re beautiful, Aoba, and you’re beautiful to_ me _. I need you. I love you. What do you say?”_

Okay, he’ll end it with something other than that. And he’s really banking on the assumption that Mink lets all of this happen in the first place, but he’ll probably be so shocked that he won’t think to stop him. Koujaku sits down the gate of the Tokyo airport and watches the plane he’ll be on in just a short thirty minutes pull up. His heart hasn’t started racing just yet, but he supposes it will once he touches down. It’s a thirteen hour flight. That’s plenty of time to lose his nerves, but no time to back out –

            Koujaku is sizing up the rest of the people waiting around him when he sees it: the messy, orange hair that sends him into a fury just from the sight of it. But no, that couldn’t have been Noiz. He sits up in his seat to crane his neck up and peer around the portly man covering up the – it’s Noiz. What the fuck. It’s Noiz. Holy shit. How is Noiz here – _why_ is Noiz here? Koujaku recalls something about him being half-German – he’d have to be, with that hair – and immediately shrinks back into his seat. Even if he’s going to fucking Dusseldorf or something, it would be better to simply avoid him altoge – Noiz sees him.

            Noiz spots him, probably because he’s not exactly being very subtle, craning up and then ducking down so violently. Fuck. _Fuck_. Why is Noiz _here?_ Can’t Koujaku have this one experience? This one life moment to himself? This one _good_ life experience? Noiz smirks and makes his way over – almost as if he’s been looking for Koujaku this whole time. Koujaku immediately glares as he sits back up in his seat and braces himself for the only person on earth he might possibly dislike more than Mink.

            “What’s up, Grandpa?”

            Koujaku seethes.

            “Looks like we’re gonna be seat buddies.”

            Koujaku pales. Noiz throws up his Coil screen and points at his seat assignment. 7B. And Koujaku is 7A–

            “What the hell are you doing here?” he growls. He doesn’t want to deal with Noiz. He wants answers. Right now. He’s not messing around right now. And Noiz seems to pick up on that. He swipes his Coil screen away and shifts the backpack on his shoulder.

            “Coming with you.”

            Koujaku is speechless.

            “What – do you mean – coming with me?”

            “I mean… Aoba owes me a Rhyme match. And you’re going to need a shoulder to cry on when he inevitably rejects you, so –”

            Koujaku stands up swiftly, squaring off his shoulders with the younger boy and holding up an arm defensively, his hand balled into a fist.

            “You are _not_ coming to see Aoba with me,” he says. “And you are _not_ sitting next to me. How did you even get the seat next to me?”

            “I convinced the girl who had your seat that you were my boyfriend. She was really adamant about how in favor of gay rights she was. I think she was American.”

            “No,” Koujaku shakes his head. “This isn’t happening. You’re not coming with me. And you’re not sitting next to me.”

            Noiz shrugs.

            “You can say it all you want. But it’s happening.”

            Noiz is right. Somehow, he has a ticket and somehow, he’s pointing at the girl who gave up her seat for him. She’s waving erratically, and Noiz puts his arm around Koujaku’s shoulder and then kisses his cheek and Koujaku is too shocked to stop him. So physically, yes, this is happening.

            Koujaku has gotten to know Noiz over the past few months. He’s definitely annoying, but he’s had his moments of weakness, and Koujaku has even felt legitimately sorry for him. There must be some sort of deep-rooted insecurity here, and that’s why Noiz is tagging along. A Rhyme match? Really? That’s why Noiz bought a ticket for America and is joining someone who he doesn’t seem to like that much? Just to have a _Rhyme match_?

            Noiz finally sits down in the seat next to Koujaku and pulls him down with him. He grabs his hand and starts to stroke his palm with his thumb, throwing one foot over his own knee and looking around casually, as if he has any fucking business being this physical with anyone, much less Koujaku. Even a real boyfriend wouldn’t want to touch Noiz this much.

            “You’re really that lonely, huh?”

            Noiz isn’t fazed. He rocks his head over and looks at Koujaku curiously, but he doesn’t seem affected yet.

            “You’re so lonely that you have to spend a fortune on a plane ticket,” Koujaku says slowly, hoping to drive his point home. “You decided to go all the way to America with _me,_ someone you don’t seem to particularly like. Because you’re _that_. Damn. Lonely.”

            Noiz doesn’t look exactly troubled, but his smirk does fade away. His face turns somewhat emotionless altogether and he looks down at the floor. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but nothing comes out. Then he shuts it pretty quickly and bites his bottom lip thoroughly. Koujaku grins: he got him. Noiz turns back to him.

            “It wasn’t exactly a fortune.”

            “…What?”

            “For me,” Noiz says, looking him in the eyes again. “The ticket. It wasn’t really all that much. I must have more money than you.”

            Koujaku seethes without a word until the plane takes off.

            “Can you even Rhyme in America?” he asks about an hour into the flight. It’s the first thing either one of them have said since they sat down.

            “Whoops,” Noiz shrugs. “That was an oversight I guess, huh?” His voice is monotonous and sarcastic. Koujaku is livid.

            “You really bought a plane ticket just to follow me all the way to America so you could annoy the shit out of me.”

            The boy seems to take up more than double the amount of space allotted to him and Koujaku is far too stubborn to relent. Their feet are touching on the floor and their earphone wires and tangled amongst each other. Thank God Koujaku chose to wear a sweater and jeans instead of his kimono. Noiz raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side.

            “I guess so.”

            When Noiz falls asleep another hour later, his head drops onto Koujaku’s shoulder.

            Koujaku shoves him off so hard he has to apologize to the man in front of them for knocking Noiz’s head into the back of his chair.

            Koujaku is not looking forward to the next ten hours of his life. And the last three have gone by so tortuously slowly that he isn’t sure he’ll even make it. His and Noiz’s belongings are already strewn everywhere, discombobulated and mixed together. Noiz spends ten minutes trying to find his stylus, which happened to fall onto Koujaku’s seat and roll under his ass. Koujaku stands up to let him pick it up and Noiz puts his hand down and then grins at him, beckoning to sit back down before he’s lifted his hand.

            It takes all Koujaku has not to smack him.

            He really can’t afford to get kicked off this flight now.

            That’s probably exactly the kind of thing that would happen to him. Noiz tortures him, he slaps Noiz, the flight crew throws him off a moving plane at a cruising altitude of fifty thousand miles.

            _Aoba_ , he reminds himself. _Aoba_.

            “So Aoba lives in New York?”

            “What?”

            It’s seven hours in. They haven’t spoken to each other in hours. Koujaku was almost asleep. Noiz’s voice cuts into his daydreams – daydreams about Aoba – but his voice is sort of soft and serious. It’s not that annoying when it’s being genuine.

            “JFK. We’re going to JFK. That’s in New York.”

            “What?” Koujaku says, rubbing his sleepy eyes with the back of his hands. “No. Aoba’s in Arizona.”

            “…What?”

            “Arizona.”

            “Do you have a connecting flight?”

            “No,” Koujaku says. “I only had enough money for one ticket.”

            “…So you got a flight to New York?”

            Koujaku’s eyes widen.           

            “How far away is New York from Arizona?” he cries, gripping Noiz’s hand suddenly. Noiz looks down at the fingers clutching his and raises his eyebrows.

            “It’s on the other side of the country, you fucking idiot,” Noiz says. Those are harsh words, not just because the reality of what Koujaku’s done comes crashing down on him, but because he’s not sure he’s ever heard Noiz swear like that before. He whips his Coil out and does a quick mapping of the route.

            “…Mother _fucker_ ,” he whispers, covering his mouth with his hand.

            “You are the stupidest person I know.”

            “It was a crime of passion!” Koujaku shouts. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I don’t have any money for another ticket!”

            “Hm,” Noiz says, sitting up slightly and digging in his back pocket for something. The situation is _so_ nightmarish that Koujaku thinks he’s in shock. He hasn’t even truly thought about what he’s going to do to fix this. He watches Noiz in horror as he pulls out a wallet and waves it in his face.

            “What?” Koujaku asks. “What is that?”

            “It’s a driver’s license.”

            Koujaku stares at Noiz for several seconds. He’s piecing it together:

            A: He bought a ticket to New York, but Arizona is on the other side of the country.

            B: He needs to get to the other side of the country.

            C: He doesn’t have money to get to the other side of the country by plane.

            D: There are other methods of transportation.

            E: Cars are the cheapest.

            F: Noiz has a driver’s license.

            Koujaku checks the map again. He checks the transportation method to driving.

            “Thirty-six hours,” he says pitifully. A thirty-six hour drive. With Noiz. With Noiz _driving_. With Noiz in charge of his _safety_.

            “Thirty-six hours,” Noiz grins. “Come on. Do it for Aoba.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Koujaku and Noiz trek cross-country. Koujaku knows he's going to Aoba, but he doesn't really know where he wants to end up. Not until he and Noiz are stopping at shitty diners and seedy rest stops and lying in fields together and seeing the world's largest pecan. It's an experience he'll only ever be able to say he had with Noiz: seeing a huge nut.

            Koujaku is resigned.

            He’s resigned himself to this fate. He drums his fingers against the counter at the rental office as he listens to Noiz haggle with the girl behind the counter. At least, he assumes he’s haggling. Koujaku speaks very little English and Noiz instructed him to stand there and look pretty, which sounded like a good enough idea to him. It’s been almost seventeen hours since he left Japan. He’s fucking exhausted and just wants to get the car, go to a hotel, and pass out for a whole day. It’s not like Aoba knows he’s coming. He’s not on a schedule. He’d worry more about paying for a car for an extra day if he was the one paying. But since Noiz insists that he is inexplicably richer than Koujaku, he decided to cover the car.

            That’s when he mutters something that alarms Koujaku.

            “What did you say?”

            Noiz’s eyes dart toward him in what looks like fear. He seems surprised that Koujaku heard him.

            “What do you mean?”

            The girl exits into a back room. Koujaku furrows his brows.

            “No one cared when you left Germany?”

            Noiz clenches his own fingers shut for a moment and stares at the wall behind the counter.

            “How did you understand what I said?”

            “You were speaking Japanese.”

            “Oh,” Noiz whispers. He nods slightly, his eyes never wavering from the wall. “I’m translating too many languages in my head. I meant to say it in German.”

            _No one even cared when I left Germany. Why would anyone give a shit if I left Japan?_

Koujaku has always been resentfully impressed by Noiz’s intelligence. He’s a programmer, whether he’s annoying about it or not, and he seems fluent in at least three languages. He’s only nineteen – maybe twenty now – and he’s far more seasoned in academia than Koujaku is, but that doesn’t mean he’s happy.

            _No one even cared when I left Germany. Why would anyone give a shit if I left Japan?_

            Koujaku drops it. He pretends he isn’t actually incredibly interested in why Noiz left Germany. He pretends he doesn’t care if he really thinks that little of himself. He pretends Noiz doesn’t have a backstory at all. Noiz is just the annoying kid who hits on his best friend and steals his lunch money. Noiz’s personal life doesn’t matter. Not now.

            He’s only a kid. As much as Koujaku hates him, he hopes someone else out there will care about him one day.

            But it doesn’t matter right now. All that matters right now is Aoba. And getting some sleep.

            Of course, Noiz has other ideas.

            “I slept on the plane.”

            “I did too,” Koujaku says, slamming the trunk a little harder than necessary. “I still don’t think you should drive.”

            “You got shitty sleep,” Noiz says. “I got good sleep. I can drive fine.”

            “It’s almost midnight, Noiz.”

            “Even better. No one will be on the road.”

            “Can you drive in a city this big?”

            “Get in the car and stop complaining.”

            Noiz isn’t really a bad driver, but getting out of the city takes far longer than Koujaku anticipated. There’s a backseat he can move to if he wants to stretch out to sleep, but Noiz won’t stop complaining about the smell of the car long enough for him to have any silence. Koujaku forced him to get a car that allowed smoking, no matter how much Noiz resisted.

            “I still don’t know why we couldn’t just stop for you to take your smoke breaks. It smells like actual emphysema in this car.”

            “Stopping to smoke just adds more time,” Koujaku tells him wearily, reclining his seat backwards. “I just want to get there and get this over with.”

            “Get this over with?” Noiz asks in amusement. “Why are you going to Aoba if that’s how you feel about it?”

            “I’m not talking about Aoba,” Koujaku says. “I’m talking about this little road trip.”

            “Aw,” Noiz coos. “You’re not having fun?”

            “Not yet.”

            “Hm,” the younger boy hums. He pauses. “Well I’ll try to fix that.”

            He’s silent for a few minutes so Koujaku closes his eyes. Maybe he can finally get some sleep…

            He dreams of Aoba. Or maybe he’s not completely asleep and he’s more daydreaming, but either way… it’s nice. Aoba, not just his boyfriend, but his husband. Aoba: his young, fit husband; and himself: Koujaku, the older, handsome man. Mizuki will roll his eyes still, but he’ll have to eat his words: Aoba _did_ come home with him. Aoba _did_ end up with him. Aoba _did_ leave Mink and marry Koujaku and they _did_ live happily ever after. Koujaku comes home from work and Aoba is already there, waiting, with food on the table, just like Tae-san’s. Food that tastes like home and family and warmth. Koujaku goes to pick Aoba up from his own work – some nondescript, fantastical place that Koujaku’s made up in his head, that definitely isn’t Heibon – and he gets to put an arm around his waist and kiss his lips and remind everyone in the room that Aoba is his and Aoba might act embarrassed but secretly he loves feeling kept; secretly he loves feeling like he has somewhere he can belong. And that’s how Koujaku feels too, only not so secretly, and –

            “Ass- _hole_.”

            Koujaku hears Noiz’s voice hovering over him. He groans and opens his eyes slowly.

            “What?” he asks, using an arm to shield himself from the streetlights. The car isn’t moving anymore. “Where are we?”

            “A little outside the city,” Noiz says. He has one arm hanging off the steering wheel as he stares down at Koujaku. Koujaku shakes his head.

            “Okay?” he asks. “Are we at a hotel?”

            “No,” Noiz says. Koujaku finally musters up the energy to sit up and look around.

            They’re on the side of the road. A shoulder, off to the side on some exit that Koujaku doesn’t recognize. Of course. Of course Koujaku doesn’t recognize any of this. This is America. He doesn’t know how this works. How Noiz understands where they are is beyond Koujaku.

            “What are we doing here?”

            Noiz is silent. Koujaku licks his lips and stares him down and it takes him a few more moments to wake up and realize that Noiz isn’t answering.

            “Noiz,” he repeats. “What are we doing here?”

            Noiz finally grins at him.

            “Ran outta gas.”

            “ _Ugh!”_ Koujaku groans loudly, rubbing his face over with his palms. “Noiz! What do you _mean_ we ran out of gas!”

            “I forgot to watch the tank gauge,” he says, turning to look at the road. “Been a while since I drove.”

            “Noiz!”

            “It’s fine, old man,” he interrupts. “There’s a gas station literally up the road. Go up there and get some and bring it back while I call hotels.”

            Koujaku is too exhausted to argue and the idea of sleeping in a real bed tonight is so appealing that he gets out of the car without another word. The station isn’t too far and the guy behind the counter doesn’t say much, so Koujaku gets in and out with no issues. After walking there and back in the dark, however, he feels a lot more awake than he did before. Noiz is sitting at the wheel still, the lights dimmed, and Koujaku fills the tank with enough fuel to get back to the gas station and fill up the rest of the way. They don’t speak another word until Noiz is ready to head to the hotel.

            “It’s less a hotel,” he says as he pulls out of the gas station. “And more of a… tourist destination.”

            “As long as it has a bed and a shower.”

            “Yep,” Noiz says.

            “Then I don’t care what it is,” Koujaku tells him. “As long as I can get some real sleep and a hot shower.”

            “Good, because it was the only place with a vacancy.”

            Koujaku knows better by now than to tell Noiz that he doesn’t care. He knows better than to trust his judgment – not just his judgment, but also his sense of humor.

            “You got us a place at a bed and breakfast,” Koujaku says when they reach the sleepy-looking building. It’s some sort of American style, he’s sure, but it just looks strange and unsettling to him.

            “Yeah, and I’m ready to go to bed and then eat some fucking breakfast,” Noiz says with a grin. He turns the car off suddenly and hops out quicker than Koujaku can keep up with. He wants to die.

            The woman at the front desk reminds him of Yoshi-san and he thanks God for once that he can’t speak the same language as her. He also thanks God for the gift of an uncomfortable Noiz as she pays him some disconcerting compliments, it seems, judging by his reaction. His eyes widen and he looks over his shoulder for Koujaku, but Koujaku is far too amused to come to his rescue. He finally gets the key and steps down on Koujaku’s toes in retribution, but Koujaku thinks it was worth it.

            Of course, the joy is short lived.

            “Noiz,” Koujaku says slowly, dropping his bag in the middle of the room.

            “Yes, honey?”

            “Where’s the other bed?”

            Noiz slings his backpack down on the king size bed in front of Koujaku. It’s red and white and frilly and Koujaku is sure that people have had sex in it before. In fact, the entire room is kind of romantic. More romantic than it needs to be. God. Wait. Is this –

            “Oh yeah,” Noiz says as he jumps on the mattress and lays his sweaty little head down against the pillows. “This was the only vacancy. It’s the honeymoon suite. So just one bed.”

            Koujaku forms a makeshift bed on the floor out of pillows and blankets that night.

            Noiz takes the honeymoon bed all to himself.

            Somehow, Koujaku manages to nudge himself to sleep with fantasies of him and Aoba in this very room, right after their wedding. He and Aoba, newlyweds, kissing until they can’t breathe under the sheets of a bed made just for them. That’s all he wants. All he wants is Aoba. All he wants is to find Aoba, to confess to Aoba, to ride away into the sunset with Aoba. Maybe Mink will fall in love with Noiz. They seem like a good fit.

            “I _don’t_ want to stay for breakfast,” Koujaku says the next morning, a towel wrapped tightly around his hips. “And get _out of the bathroom while I’m naked_.”

            “I just think we should get our money’s worth,” Noiz says. “And the breakfast’s almost over. We should really act fast.”

            “No,” Koujaku shakes his head. “No, if you’re going to hold me hostage with the money, then I’ll pay for the next hotel room. And it’ll be a motel and you’ll hate it. So if you want to be a snobby rich boy, fine. But you’re not holding that over my head.”

            Noiz does what Koujaku can only describe as a pout. His eyebrows furrow and his lips push outward slightly.

            “You’re going to need food for the rest of the day,” he says. Koujaku feels his towel start to slip and puts one hand on the door and one hand on his waist.

            “Okay,” he says, taking a few steps forward to usher Noiz out of the room. “Okay, fine, if I say yes, will you give me a second to get ready?”

            Noiz smiles and backs out of the bathroom and Koujaku finds himself amongst a table of couples whom he, once again, cannot understand. And this time, Noiz keeps holding his hand and kissing his cheek and feeding him food. Koujaku has no idea why he’s putting up with this, but some strange part of him doesn’t mind it. Mostly because he’s pretending that Noiz is Aoba. He’s getting ready for a lifetime of handholding and forehead-kissing and public displays of affection and the fact that it’s Noiz instead of Aoba for now doesn’t really bother him at the moment.

            Just goes to show how exhausted he is.

            “The one in the orange thinks you’re handsome,” Noiz says, leaning over and eyeing Koujaku’s oatmeal.

            “They all think I’m handsome, they just won’t say it,” Koujaku tells him plainly, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the woman in orange. Noiz seems taken aback. His smile vanishes and his eyebrows rise up.

            “Oh. Well. They think we’re the cutest couple.”

            “Of course they do. Is there any rice?”

            “No, honey, you have to remember we’re in the colonies now.”

            Koujaku has little to no idea what that means, but he makes a deal with Noiz that he’ll give him on kiss on the forehead if it means they are out and on the road in the next twenty minutes.

            Somehow, Noiz lives up to his end of the deal.

            He’s even quiet for the next few hours of driving. Well – he’s almost quiet. He has the tendency to hum, and Koujaku’s never noticed that before. Probably because they don’t tend to spend much quality alone time together, but now that they’re here, in this car, with each other, Koujaku can hear it. And it’s not annoying in the least; Koujaku actually finds it incredibly calming. It’s low and soft and happy in a way that he’s never associated with Noiz. In a weird way, it makes sense: Noiz is petulant and immature and childish, but he’s also quiet and intelligent. He’s – pensive. For as annoying as he is, he’s actually really isolated. He keeps to himself and Koujaku hardly understands him. He certainly doesn’t know anything about him, that’s for sure, and a little part of him is curious. A little part of him has always been curious. He actually wants to know Noiz’s story – if only because he’s nosy. Not because he actually cares on any real level.

            He’s part German and, Koujaku assumes, Japanese. He might be half and half but Koujaku doesn’t know for certain. He used to live in Germany – was he actually born there? Why did he leave? Who didn’t care about him there? His own parents? Or is he one of those people who make themselves out to be far more tragic than they really are? He’s still young. Koujaku has known a lot of very young people who do that, and a lot of them were kids on the streets who secretly had a much cushier upbringing than most. They weren’t exactly “on the streets,” since they could go home to their mom and dad at night if they wanted. And then there were people like Mizuki, who probably had one of the hardest childhoods that Koujaku’s ever heard, but no one would ever guess it. He’s so kind and down to earth and Koujaku wonders if Noiz’s past is actually even _worse_ than Mizuki’s. The only thing that gives him any sort of insight into Noiz’s life is his money situation: is he still living off his family? Are they rich? Or does he simply have nothing else to spend his money on? Maybe he works, saves, and never spends. Maybe he waits for something exactly like this to happen and that’s when he splurges.

            Koujaku doesn’t know. Koujaku doesn’t know anything about Noiz. Koujaku doesn’t know why he cares so much.

            Koujaku doesn’t know he’s staring at him until Noiz stops humming.

            “What are you looking at, pervert?”

            Koujaku shakes his head and lets his head droop down onto his own shoulder. Sleeping on a pile of pillows and blankets wasn’t exactly that much better than sleeping in a car or on a plane. This trip could actually be going a lot worse, if Koujaku wasn’t so sleep-deprived, but he might actually prefer it like this. With so little energy, he can hardly bring himself to get angry or annoyed with Noiz at all.

            “I think you have some shit on your face,” he says. He rolls over and cuddles against the window. “I’m going to take a nap.”

            He doesn’t let Noiz know that he actually thinks he’s really cute. He’s kind of sweet. When he’s quiet, anyway.

            Noiz drives a long way that day, saying very little to actually irritate Koujaku. They make it to a place called Illinois before he decides he needs to stop to eat and Koujaku agrees. He insists that they eat somewhere cheap, so he can pay for his own meal, and Noiz inevitably finds a seedy little diner just off the highway. It’s almost midnight, and the place is mostly cleared out when they walk in. They sit next to a big window where Noiz can keep an eye on the car and Koujaku has to have him explain the menu to him.

            “You should try the grilled cheese,” he says. “They’re a delicacy here.”

            “I know what a grilled cheese is, Noiz,” Koujaku tells him. “We have those in Japan.”

            “No you don’t.”

            “What? Yes we do.”

            “No you don’t.”

            “I’ve _had_ a grilled cheese before. It’s just bread with cheese toasted into it.”

            “No, this is different.”

            “Oh,” Koujaku says, looking down at the menu again. “How is it different here?”

            “They put a little bit of America into every sandwich,” he tells him. Koujaku looks up again and glares at him. “Before you know it, you’ll have those weird boots on and know all the words to the American national anthem.”

            “Do you actually know _anything_ about America, Noiz?”

            “I know they have amazing grilled cheeses.”

            That actually strikes a chord with Koujaku. Has Noiz been to America before? Just how cultured is he? And why is he pretending as if he isn’t?

            The waitress takes their orders – Koujaku points at what he wants on the menu because he doesn’t trust Noiz to order for him – and Noiz sits with his hands folded between his knees on the other side of the booth, the straw from his soda dangling out of his lips as he sips it up slowly into his mouth. Koujaku is sort of entranced. He’s _really_ cute when he does that. It makes Koujaku angry.

            “So,” Noiz says finally, and it hits Koujaku just then that this is the first time they’ve actually been alone where neither of them are distracted. Noiz doesn’t have to drive and Koujaku doesn’t have to try to translate English. They have the hotel booked for tonight in a city Koujaku has never heard of and their tank is full, so there’s nothing to do right now but – God, he’s going to have to have a _conversation_ with Noiz.

            “What?” he asks angrily. He already hates Noiz’s tone. It’s so infantile and accusing and baiting. Noiz feigns being hurt.

            “Jeez,” he says, dropping the straw from his mouth. “I didn’t even say anything yet.”

            “What are you going to say?”

            “I wasn’t going to say anything,” he insists, a sick smile on his face. “Just ask you how you were doing.”

            “I’m fine.”

            “The car isn’t too uncomfortable?”

            “No.”

            “So, you’re in love with Aoba, huh?”

            Koujaku balls his hands into fists. He could deny it, but Noiz probably knows. Somehow, he knows. He figures everything out because of those stupid Allmate cubes he has. He knows that Koujaku is here to bring Aoba back, but he doesn’t necessarily know that it’s because he’s in love with him. Koujaku seethes.

            “No.”

            “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

            “I’m here to take him away from Mink,” Koujaku says.

            “Why?”

            “Because,” Koujaku furrows his brows. “You saw Mink. How he would manhandle him. He’s not treating Aoba well.”

            “He’s not?” Noiz seems genuinely concerned for a moment. Koujaku softens.

            “I mean… look at him.”

            “At who?”

            “M…Mink.” Koujaku isn’t so sure himself.

            “What about him?”

            “I don’t know!” Koujaku cries. “He’s a criminal and a thug and he beats whoever he wants something from.”

            “He’s beating Aoba?”

            Koujaku wants to say yes, but he can’t. He doesn’t actually know for sure.

            “I… I know he hurt him. At one point. I know he did.”

            “So what?”

            Koujaku’s eyes widen. He cocks his head to the side in rage.

            “What do you mean, _‘So what?’”_

“So what if he hurt him? Do you think Aoba would really stay with him?”

            Koujaku is shocked, but has to remind himself that Noiz is young. Even if he is annoying and frustrating and obnoxious, he’s not necessarily _stupid_ , he’s just inexperienced. He doesn’t know these things. For one short second, he thinks about his mother’s hair – and then slams that door shut as quickly as he opened it.

            “No, see… People get hurt and they don’t know how to leave. So they just pretend it isn’t happening. And they stay. For whatever reason. It isn’t their fault. That’s how that kind of thing works.”

            Noiz seems to bristle at his words.

            “I know how that kind of thing works.”

            Koujaku is shaken at the thought that Noiz means from personal experience, but quickly realizes he’s simply annoyed at Koujaku’s assumption that he doesn’t understand.

            “What I’m asking is,” Noiz continues, “do you really think Aoba would stay with someone that treats him poorly? Do you think he tracked him down all this way and then _stayed_ here, when he was hurting him? Or are you just coming up with some reason why he needs you to come in and sweep him off his feet?”

            “Hey, fuck you,” Koujaku growls. He almost stands up and takes a swing, but manages to calm himself down. “You don’t have to fucking be here. I’m letting you tag along. You can go back home any fucking time you want.”

            “Don’t you think it does some sort of disservice?” Noiz asks. “To call it abuse when it’s not?”

            “You’re an asshole,” Koujaku spits. “Just because you moved all the way to Japan and _still_ no one gave a shit about you doesn’t mean no one cares about anyone else. If you’re trying to get me to give two shits about you by tagging along on this, you’re going to go home as unhappy as everyone thinks I’m going to.”

            Sometimes the rage inside Koujaku’s body spills out in words. He hardly made the conscious decision to say any of those things, but before he can do much, they’re trickling out of him. Though as much as he may regret them, he did mean them on some level.

            Noiz straightens up in his booth and gives Koujaku that smile. That smile that he always has on when he’s trying to fuck with him. But this time it’s faded and disingenuous. Koujaku can tell, because he’s seen it so many times before. He’s committed it to memory.

            Noiz is putting it on. Koujaku has finally affected him.

            “Too bad,” the boy says finally, hunching forward to put his straw between his lips again. “I’ll just have to try harder then.”

            It’s completely silent again until they get to the hotel that night.

            But then that changes quickly.

            “It’s another honeymoon suite,” Noiz says, apparently thrilled with the mix-up as he stares down at the bed. “That was an actual mistake this time.”

            Koujaku is almost in tears.

            “Bull _shit_ it was a mix-up!” he shouts. Noiz turns to him with wide eyes. “You did this on purpose again! Why do you keep doing this? Why did you have to tag along? Why do you have to make my life so hard all the time? What did I do to deserve this?”

            Noiz’s eyes dart to the floor and Koujaku pulls at his hair. He doesn’t even care about the bed really; he cares that Noiz is doing this sort of stuff on purpose. He cares that this trip to Aoba has been ruined by this kid; this kid who has no discernable reason for constantly fucking with Koujaku the way he does. He’s had no sleep for three days and he _just wants to get some real sleep in a real bed without having to deal with Noiz two feet away from him and fuck –_

“Why do you _like_ screwing with people like this?” he continues, his voice rising higher. “Why do you _get enjoyment_ from this kind of shit? I was even kind of starting to enjoy having someone with me but then you have to go and pull this?”

            “It really wasn’t on purpose.”

            Koujaku whirls around to him and is about to keep shouting when he notices that Noiz is shaking. He’s clawing at his own palms with his fingers and staring at the floor, his hoodie hanging so loosely around his neck that Koujaku notices for the first time how scrawny he is. His voice is so monotonous and all of Koujaku’s frustration melts away. Something’s really wrong with Noiz.

            “I – okay,” he says. He’s not sure how else to reply. He doesn’t know how to handle this. “I – are you okay?”

            “Yeah,” Noiz says, moving suddenly and swiftly. He closes the gap between them and grabs at the collar of Koujaku’s t-shirt. “We can have sex if it’ll make you feel better. You can pound me into the mattress. Get some practice before Aoba, you don’t want him to be the first dude you’re ever with.”

            Koujaku’s heart starts to race. He grabs Noiz’s hands and throws him off.

            “ _What_?” he asks breathlessly. “No, I – no, I don’t want to have sex with you.”

            Noiz’s eyes dart around awkwardly.

            “What do you want, then?” he asks. Koujaku takes too long to answer. “I can just blow you. You can pretend I’m Aoba.”

            Koujaku runs his hands down his face in desperation. What the hell is this kid saying?

            “I don’t want to do that,” he says. He’s suddenly full of deep, genuine, _honest_ concern for Noiz. He’s never seen him like this. He’s completely taken aback. What the _hell_ is wrong with him? “You don’t have to do that. You don’t have to make up for it. It was just a mistake, right?”

            Noiz pauses and then nods. Koujaku nods along with him.

            “Right. Okay, so… it’s fine. I’ll just go up front and see if we can fix it.”

            “You don’t speak English,” Noiz reminds him. Koujaku nods. Right. Yes. There’s that.

            “Then I’ll just sleep on the floor, like I did last night. It’s really not a big deal.”

            There’s a long silence as Noiz stares at the floor some more, his fingers still doing that clawing thing – oh no, they’ve stopped. His hands are at his side again and after another few seconds of staring at the ground, he seems to snap out of a trance. He looks up at Koujaku in shock, and then quickly changes to what seems like anger.

            “I’ll go talk to them,” he mutters.

            Koujaku sleeps on the floor again. This time, he can’t think of anything but Noiz as he falls asleep.

            It’s still dark out when Koujaku is awoken by a whine.

            It’s Noiz. He’s whining in his sleep. He didn’t do that last night.

            Koujaku isn’t sure what to do. He sits up slowly and peers onto the bed. Noiz’s eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are shut tight; he’s rolling around quite a bit and fisting the sheets, pulling them up and down every now and then.

            He must be having a nightmare. Koujaku sinks back down onto his pile of pillows and stares at the bed skirt. Noiz stops moving before he can make the decision to wake him up.

            Koujaku showers as quietly as he can in the morning. Noiz is still asleep by the time he’s done, so he runs down to the hotel lobby and grabs a second coffee, creams, sugars, a muffin and a banana before he heads back up after eating his own breakfast. Noiz is in the bathroom so Koujaku puts the food down on the bedside table and sits at the desk, mapping out the route for the day.

            Noiz is soaking wet and naked save for the towel around his waist when he comes out. He notices the food before he notices Koujaku, and he doesn’t seem the least bit startled.

            “I didn’t know you were back.”

            “At least you have a towel on.”

            Noiz stares at him for a few moments.

            “I brought you some breakfast,” Koujaku tells him.

            Noiz drops the towel. Koujaku retches and almost snaps his neck trying to look away.

            “You little pervert!” he shouts. Noiz takes the food with him back into the bathroom, and Koujaku can’t help but peek. He has a nice ass. Koujaku’s always wondered. He’s always sort of noticed it when he bends over. But he had to know for sure.

            Now he knows. And he never has to see that, or his pierced penis again –

            “Wait, is your dick pierced?” Koujaku cries standing up from the chair suddenly. Noiz laughs cheerfully before slamming the bathroom door.

            Koujaku realizes just half an hour into driving that day that he should have done something to wake Noiz up in the night.

            He’s fidgety and – nervous, almost, even though Koujaku had noticed how comfortable and at ease he’d seemed driving before. He actually looked cool and kind of attractive behind the wheel. Like an adult. He’d wear jeans and sweaters instead of his weird, small ties and beanie hats in the summer and grip the wheel like he knew what he was doing. It was appealing. He was a handsome guy. But now he’s just – nervous.

            “Are you okay?” Koujaku asks. Noiz winces.

            “Fine.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “Shut up.”

            “If you’re too tired we can pull off and take a nap or something.”

            “Don’t you want to get there on time?”

            Koujaku looks forward. He does. There’s not really an “on time” scenario here, but… sooner is better than later.

            “What if I drive?”

            “You don’t know how to drive.”

            “I know how to drive,” Koujaku says. “I just never got a license. You don’t need one in Midorijima.”

            “I’m _fine.”_

Koujaku frowns and looks forward again. He’s obviously not fine. His entire body is buzzing, like every muscle is twitching under his skin and setting his flesh on fire. He’s got a tic or something. His shoulders twitch, his elbows twitch, his knees twitch; his fingers twitch around the wheel and Koujaku has no idea what’s wrong with him. Maybe he’s lacking some sort of vitamin. Koujaku values his life too much to die in a fiery car crash with a boy he – has come to tolerate only _slightly_ better than before.

            “I know you had a nightmare last night.”

            Noiz doesn’t respond.

            “I heard you whining in your sleep. And… twitching.”

            Noiz swallows hard and keeps staring at the road. Koujaku feels a car pass them on the right.

            “I thought maybe I should wake you up but I wasn’t sure. You stopped making noises by the time I could do something.”

            Noiz’s nose scrunches up and he frowns at the dashboard. He turns the blinker on and pulls off at the next exit. He pulls into a gas station and the two switch seats silently, Koujaku wondering if he should try to comfort Noiz in some way. He already feels awkward admitting that he noticed the nightmare; if Noiz really needs to talk about it then he can figure out how to bring it up himself. Koujaku’s done enough already.

            Of course, if Noiz was going to bring up anything, it wasn’t going to be something serious.

            “I’m not kidding,” Koujaku shouts two hours later, reaching to turn the volume down. “If you turn it up that loud one more time, I will leave you on the side of the road.”    

            Noiz folds his arms and actually pouts.

            “And I’ll call the cops and tell them there’s a man driving without a license in a red four-door.”

            “That wouldn’t even work!” Koujaku shouts. Noiz suddenly dives for Koujaku’s pants again.

            “Let me do this, then.”

            Koujaku yelps and sits up awkwardly to shove Noiz off. The car veers off to the right and Koujaku has to wave at a girl in an SUV who honks at them.

            “Stop trying to give me road head!”

            “I’ve never given road head before!” Noiz shouts. “I’m trying to check stuff off my bucket list here, we’re on a _road trip_ after all.”

            “I don’t want your gross little lips on my dick!”

            “Why? It’s been inside every girl on Midorijma, what’s my mouth got that those bodies don’t?”

            “That’s not true!” Koujaku yells, taking his hand off the wheel for a moment to elbow Noiz’s chest. He returns his hand to the ten-and-two position quickly, his eyes never straying from the road. His shoulders are hunched over, protecting the wheel from wandering hands like a vulture.

            “It’s okay,” Noiz tells him with a smile. “You’re a slut. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m a slut, too.”

            “Yeah, right,” Koujaku scoffs. “That would involve people actually wanting to have sex with you.”

            “Lots of people want to have sex with me.”

            “Oh yeah?”

            Noiz goes quiet suddenly and when Koujaku glances over, he has a pained smile on his face. It’s like he’s trying to laugh but all that’s coming are tears. He’s not actually crying, but Koujaku knows that look. He’s trapped in a car and he can’t get out, so he’s trying not to have a breakdown. Koujaku _knows_ that look.

            “Well, _I_ don’t,” he says. He has no idea what Noiz is reacting to, but he tries to bring the mood down a bit. “I just want you to sit there and keep entertaining me. But _quietly_.”

            “Keep?”

            “Huh?”

            “What do you mean, ‘keep?’”

            “What do you mean, what do I mean?”

            “I mean… I’m entertaining you?”

            “Yeah,” Koujaku shrugs. It’s not really a lie, either. Noiz can be pretty funny when he isn’t solely torturing Koujaku. “Just keep your hands away from the wheel and the volume. Keep telling me about the night you took care of Mizuki.”

            “Oh,” Noiz laughs, looking out the window with a big grin. “I already told you the good parts.”

            Koujaku smiles. It’s like his entire breakdown just melted away. Koujaku doesn’t know why he cares about that.

            “Well, tell me the rest.”

            They drive for six hundred miles that day, to a small town in a place called Oklahoma. Noiz is mostly tolerable; even the eight more times that he tries to give Koujaku road head are funnier than they are obnoxious. Koujaku almost lets him, too. He’d kind of like to know what it’s like, but he thinks Noiz has a tongue ring… and if he _is_ as slutty as he says, a good blowjob might run them off the road and Koujaku – doesn’t want to die in a fiery car wreck.

            It’s Noiz who suggests they relax that night by going to a bar and Koujaku finds it hard to resist the need for a few drinks. They stop at a karaoke place and pinky promise not to sign each other up, and for some reason Koujaku trusts him.

            He orders Noiz a cocktail and a beer for himself – rather, he tells Noiz what to order for the both of them, because Noiz speaks the language, but he doesn’t know the alcohols. It’s just a rum and Coke, but Noiz shakes his head. He doesn’t like it.

            “Just down it all really quick,” Koujaku says, taking a sip of his beer. “Then get something different.”

            “Doesn’t drinking it really fast make you drunker?”

            “…No,” Koujaku says. Getting Noiz drunk on purpose is probably not a good thing, but he can’t resist. He didn’t realize Noiz was this oblivious. “It… gets rid of the air bubbles. So you don’t get as sick.”

            Noiz doesn’t believe it for a second, but he downs it anyway. Koujaku chugs his beer too in a show of solidarity. They’re in this together. They have a dark, cushy booth in the back of the bar, and they’re enduring this awful karaoke together.

            Somehow Koujaku forgets just how much he hates this guy in this moment. It’s like they’re actually friends for a second. And for an instant, Koujaku isn’t homesick. He doesn’t even remember why he’s here.

            Four drinks in, Noiz says it:

            “I came because Aoba is the only person I’ve ever felt a connection with.”

            Koujaku stares at him over the rim of his third beer.

            “What do you…?”

            “Aoba was the only person I ever thought I might actually care about,” he says. He’s slurring a little. This feels wrong. This feels like stuff that Koujaku isn’t supposed to know. He regrets telling Noiz to chug. But it seemed as if Noiz knew he was lying, anyway. Still, this doesn’t feel great. “You’re the only person who pays me any attention, other than Mizuki. But he doesn’t really care about me as much as you do. You were my last chance to connect with someone.”

            “Connect with someone?” Koujaku asks. “What does that mean?”

            “I’ve never known anyone in my entire life,” Noiz says loudly. “I don’t know my family anymore. I’ve never had any friends. The only people I’ve ever known were the ones I paid – well, actually, they paid me.”

            “Paid?”

            “Yeah,” Noiz nods. “When I first got to the island, I didn’t have any money or anywhere to stay or anything to eat. So I had sex with people to stay at their places.”

            Koujaku suddenly feels like he wants to vomit. He says it so casually, like it’s some funny thing that Koujaku is supposed to relate to.

            “But they didn’t know that actually the sex was the only way I felt like anyone gave a shit about me. I made Ruff Rabbit and that filled enough of it. But it wasn’t until I met Aoba that I felt like I gave a shit about someone else, too.”

            Koujaku furrows his brows. So is Noiz saying – ?

            “So, what? You’re in love with Aoba?”

            “No,” Noiz waves his hand away. “No. No. No, I’m not in love with Aoba. I just thought that if I came with you then maybe I’d connect with you. And if not… then at least Aoba might give me some more attention. He’s a nice guy.”

            “Yeah…” Koujaku nods, completely out of his depth. He doesn’t know how to address the countless issues that he’s just learned about this boy, so he tries to buy himself some time. “He is.”

            “You’re the only person who pays attention to me,” he says again. “I don’t mind that you hate me. The guys who used to fuck me didn’t care at all. They couldn’t even care enough to hate me.”

            He takes another long sip of his drink. Koujaku puts his hand out and pulls it away.

            “I think you should stop drinking.”

            “Yeah, I feel like I’m talking a lot,” he says.

            “Yeah, don’t you feel drunk at all?”

            His eyes dart away quickly and then he looks back nervously.

            “I mean – yeah,” he shrugs. “I feel really drunk.”

            Koujaku furrows his brows again. He’s acting weird, in more ways than one.

            Koujaku is a little drunk, too.

            “I’m in love Aoba,” he finally confesses. Noiz nods slowly. “I don’t… I don’t actually give a shit about Mink. I don’t… know if he’s a bad guy. It has nothing to do with him. It’s everything to do with Aoba. I’m just… being selfish about Aoba.”

            Noiz cups his hands around his glass and leans forward, his head sinking below his shoulders as he nods slowly at Koujaku.

            “It’s not selfish,” he says. “If I’d had a best friend for that long, I’d probably be in love with him, too.”

            They stare at each other for what feels like hours and the next thing Koujaku knows, he’s waking up the next morning in a motel room. Noiz is next to him in bed. They’re both still fully clothed, but Noiz is drooling on his pillow. Koujaku laughs to himself.

            Looks like he’s driving again today.

            Noiz is silent all morning, well into the afternoon, and hardly raises his voice when he says he has to pee. Koujaku doesn’t really want to bring up the night before either, as admitting his love for Aoba really just gave Noiz more ammunition against him, and reminding him of the event would be unwise.

            He can’t get it out of his head, though.

            He never wants to know how old Noiz was when he got to Midorijima. He never wants to know how young he was when he started sleeping around. He doesn’t think he could stomach it.

            He pulls off onto a seedy looking gas station and turns to Noiz.

            “I can find a better rest sto—”

            “S’fine,” Noiz mutters before he gets out and makes his way inside. Koujaku watches him as he walks, his own eyes sad and confused and his heart suddenly aching for the kid. He didn’t realize Noiz was so sad. Noiz was just a kid. He always _thought_ that, but he never really pieced it together. Noiz was _just a kid_. He doesn’t have a family and he’s _just a fucking kid._ Koujaku’s chest feels warm and tight and painful when he thinks about Noiz sleeping around; Noiz bent into positions he didn’t even want to be in. He has to grab at his own shirt and sit up straight to alleviate the discomfort. This shirt is so heavy over his chest. It’s weighing his heart down. All things considered, Noiz should actually be a lot _more_ obnoxious than he is.

            Noiz doesn’t deserve that.

            Koujaku is alarmed when Noiz comes back out, eyes wide and gait nervous. He gets in the car as quick as he can and won’t meet Koujaku’s eyes.

            “Go.”

            “What?”

            “Go.”

            “What’s wrong?”

            “ _Go.”_

“What happened?” Koujaku says, grabbing his shoulder. Noiz throws him off and pushes him back into his seat.

            “Just leave!”

            It takes Koujaku almost a full ten minutes to get it out of him.

            “Some guy in there started touching me and wouldn’t stop!” Noiz shouts, finally grabbing at Koujaku’s hands, which are back on his shoulders, pulling him apprehensively. He holds Koujaku’s hands in his and pulls them against his chest. “Please _go._ I want to get out of here.”

            Maybe if the night before hadn’t happened, Koujaku would just peel out.

            Maybe if Koujaku didn’t know what he does now about Noiz, he’d just take off.

            Maybe if there wasn’t a boiling rage inside Koujaku’s stomach – _he’s just a FUCKING KID –_ he wouldn’t black out in anger and come to holding a man twice his size’s shirt in his hand.

            It’s hard to be twice Koujaku’s size, but somehow, this guy managed. He’s probably not actually twice his size – but he’s definitely big enough to do some serious damage. Luckily, Koujaku only has one thing on his agenda:

            He punches him square between the eyes. He doesn’t exactly go down, but he does stumble enough that Koujaku can grab his shirt again and throw him into a rack of Funyuns. Whatever those are.

            “Don’t _ever_ put your hands on that kid again,” Koujaku shouts in Japanese, realizing the man doesn’t understand him. It wouldn’t matter if he did. He’s not going to see Noiz again. He should think of something a little more general. “Uh – don’t – just keep your hands to yourself!”

            Again, this man can’t understand the words coming out of his mouth, but that doesn’t really matter. It’s really the principle of the thing, and he certainly knows what this is in retribution for, so Koujaku can consider this a – okay, he’s getting up. The man is getting up. He is coming toward him. It’s time to leave now. Koujaku lets an embarrassingly shrill yelp out as he turns for the door and runs back to the car.

            “Start the car!” he screeches, watching as Noiz scrambles nervously to the driver’s seat, opening the passenger side before he does so. Noiz is a smart kid. The door to the gas station slams open behind Koujaku, and he feels his heels scrape against the ground as he picks up his pace. He barely makes it inside the car, the door slammed shut against his own elbows.

            “Fuck!” he shouts, scrambling for the lock. He gets it just in time, but Noiz is peeling out before it really matters. The man is grabbing to open the car door and Koujaku is positive that Noiz runs over his toes. Good. He hopes he did. Break every bone in his body, for as much as Koujaku cares.

            It’s relieving to see Noiz laugh as he pulls back onto the highway. It’s a real laugh too, a sincere, bold laugh, like he can’t believe what they just did, like they’re in some kind of movie and that was the epic scene the whole audience was waiting for. Filmed kind of oddly, like the director was experimenting and it didn’t really go well, but entertaining nonetheless. Koujaku is so out of breath that his laughter is a mix between a wheeze and a cough. It’s mostly an adrenaline rush and suddenly he’s having the best time of his life, even though less than two minutes before this he was so angry he blacked out.

            Ah… that’s not good. He shouldn’t be getting angry like that.

            He’s not supposed to get angry like that at all. But the last person he ever thought he would get that mad about was –

            “What happened?” Noiz asks with a smile. His eyes are wide in amusement when he looks over and fuck. He looks like a little kid. He’s incredulous and looking at Koujaku like he’s his idol and Koujaku might be sick.

            “I punched him,” he breathes. “You were the getaway car.”

            “No shit,” Noiz nods. “I think I ran over his foot.”

            “I do too,” Koujaku swallows. “Good.”

            Noiz goes quiet after that, and Koujaku thinks it’s because he’s shown his cards. And Koujaku does care about Noiz. At least, he cares enough about him to exact revenge on his behalf. Maybe that’s not the most romantic show of affection, but Koujaku doesn’t exactly feel _affectionate_ towards him as much as he feels like he doesn’t deserve to be touched by a strange dickhead in public.

            It’s awkward. Noiz has proven that there _are_ things that break his cool, apathetic façade, and Koujaku has shown that he doesn’t completely, irreversibly despise the kid. Noiz has anxious twitches and Koujaku has angry spasms. They’re sort of alike. They’re both a little bit broken. Koujaku knows, of course, that everyone is broken in their own way. What he has in common with Noiz is that their brokenness is a bit more severe than they let on.

            “He just made me think of all those guys.”

            Koujaku isn’t surprised by _what_ Noiz says as much as he’s surprised that he’s willing to say it at all when sober. Koujaku nods but continues to stare straight out the window.

            “They didn’t really listen to me either, you know. Not really. I’d tell them… something hurt. And they’d stop for a second. But then they’d do it again.”

            Koujaku winces.

            “Those guys would hurt you?”

            Noiz rolls his eyes.

            “Not exactly,” he mutters. Koujaku doesn’t know what to do with that.

            “You said you knew how abuse worked,” he says. “Is that what you meant?”

            It’s quiet again, but it’s more of a waiting period than an angry silence. Noiz is collecting his thoughts. Koujaku is, too.

            “No,” Noiz says eventually. “It was just a bartering system. It was just a transaction.”

            Koujaku wants to say something here, something kind and revelatory, like, _“You’re not a transaction,”_ but he doesn’t think it’ll sound sincere.

            “If they hurt you, it sounds like they abused you.”

            “And what do you know about abuse?” Noiz says suddenly, somewhat angry but his voice cracks and gives him away. He’s scared. Koujaku knows that feeling well. The feeling that your words are moving faster than your lips can speak so you stumble over everything you say and your voice cracks and your body speeds up because your heart won’t slow down. Koujaku takes a deep breath. He wants to do this:

            “My dad wasn’t so great,” Koujaku says. He looks up at the sky. It’s a clear enough day. There are no clouds in front of them. The sun is high and not too bright. His mother used to hold him in her lap after his father beat her. He tried to protect her from him when he was old enough, but he beat him even worse. Koujaku doesn’t think about that much.

            “Neither was mine.”

            Koujaku finally looks over at the younger boy when he says it. He stares at him for a few moments, nods, and then looks forward again.

            They don’t need to go into detail. It’s not like they’re friends or anything.

            Two hours later, Noiz pulls off at the wrong exit. Koujaku asks where the hell he thinks he’s going, but Noiz just grins.

            “The sign said world’s largest pecan.”

            Koujaku doesn’t argue.

            He finds himself standing in front of what he can only describe as a pretty fucking big pecan. There’s a small restaurant in front of it that’s closed.

            “That certainly is a big nut,” Noiz nods.

            Koujaku smiles. He’s not sure there’s anyone else he would rather have next to him at this, the world’s largest pecan. This is an event in his life. This is an event he’ll always remember. This is an experience that he’ll likely never have again. And for once, it feels fitting that Noiz is here.

            “Not as big as my nuts though,” he adds, turning away and walking down the dirt road. Yeah. There’s no one else Koujaku would rather have here with him right now than Noiz.

            Noiz books another hotel room as they’re getting ice cream at a shop down the road and then he flips a Coil screen up as they both sit on a bench next to each other. He points at the screen.

            “World’s largest pistachio. That’s in New Mexico. Oh, there’s an acorn in Raleigh.”

            “Why does America have so many huge nuts?” Koujaku asks. Noiz raises his eyebrows and gives him a shrug.

            “Whoa!” he shouts, enlarging an image of a rabbit with antlers. “Jackalope! In Wyoming! Look at that thing.”

            Koujaku laughs to himself and licks some ice cream off his fingers. He shakes his head and takes a closer look at the jackalope. He’s never even heard of that before.

            “Is it a kind of rabbit?”

            “Sort of.”

            Koujaku rolls his eyes.

            “Of course you’d like that,” he says. “Is it near us?”

            “No…” Noiz says quietly. “Why would I like that?”

            “You like rabbits, don’t you?”

            “No,” he murmurs, scrolling down the page to stare at the more pictures of the statue. “I’m just bored. I’m trying to find something to do.”

            “Well, what’s on the way –”

            Koujaku is about to ask what else might be on the way – to Aoba. Their destination. Their purpose. They’re here because Koujaku wants to find Aoba.

            They aren’t here to look at the world’s largest pecan or a jackalope statue… or sit on a bench in the middle of the road in some backwoods town in America eating ice cream. Koujaku shakes his head and pulls his ice cream into his lap.

            “We’re here to find Aoba,” he says quietly, almost as if he needs to convince himself more than he needs to remind Noiz.

            Noiz’s entire body relaxes as he looks away from his Coil screen. It’s like it just dawned on him, too. They’re not here to hang out. They’re not here to look at funny things. They’re not here to _do things together_.

            They’re here because Koujaku came to find the person he’s in love with, and Noiz decided to tag along.

            They’re not on some epic road trip. This is not some experience that Koujaku has planned with Noiz.

            They’re not friends.

            But Koujaku finds that he’s forgotten that somewhere along the way.

            He remembers it again when the hotel room, yet again, only has one bed.

            “Please tell me this was another honest mistake,” he says. Noiz smiles.

            “No, last night was. This time I did it on purpose.”

            Koujaku is about to answer when Noiz drops his backpack to his side and squares his shoulders towards Koujaku. Koujaku looks at him and raises an eyebrow.

            “What?”

            “Let’s fuck.”

            “ _No,”_ Koujaku says, close to panicking. He doesn’t want to go through this again. “I already told you –”

            “No, you told me no when I was trying to barter with you,” Noiz says. “Now I want to just fuck. How long has it been since you jacked off?”

            “Noiz!” Koujaku shouts, angrier that Noiz has reminded him that it _has_ been a few days since he last had an orgasm than that he’s trying to sleep with him. “That’s none of your business!”

            “You don’t want your first time with Aoba to be the first time you ever slept with a guy, do you?”

            That’s the second time Noiz has mentioned that.

            And it’s the second time Koujaku has realized that he might be right.

            It’s the countless time he’s found himself attracted to Noiz.

            It’s the first time he’s ever seriously considered sleeping with him.

            “We’re going to be to Aoba in two days,” Koujaku tells him. Noiz nods.

            “Better hurry up.”

            “I mean – what can I really learn in two days?” Koujaku asks. Noiz looks like he’s pondering it, but Koujaku didn’t mean it literally. “I’m not actually asking that. I’m saying… do you really want to have had sex with me… just to help me have sex with someone else?”

            “You think after sleeping with all those guys before that I care about sex being romantic?”

            “Well –“ Koujaku wavers. “But now that you don’t have to sleep with those guys anymore… you don’t want it to be… even a little?”

            Noiz pauses. He frowns at Koujaku and looks at the wall behind him for a moment.

            “Well… maybe one day,” he says, looking back to him. “But I’ve been jacking off in hotel showers the past three nights. I’d really like a different kind of release.”

            “That’s intimate to you?” Koujaku asks. Noiz huffs angrily.

            “All those girls you used to fuck when really all you wanted was Aoba was intimate to _you?”_ he spits. Koujaku takes a step back and curls his hands to fists in an effort not to slap him.

            “Hey!” he growls. “Right, like you have any room to talk?”

            “So we’re both slutty,” Noiz mutters, still angry. “That’s why it makes even more sense to take out the frustration here with each other. I’m not going to tell anyone.”

            “I don’t _care_ if you tell anyone, I care if –”

            “Yeah right, if you and I had sex right now and I told Aoba, you’d flip your shit.”

            “Probably,” Koujaku shrugs. “But I don’t care if you – tell anyone like – Mizuki. I don’t _care_ if people know I slept with you. I care that you’ll bring it up at the worst time, just to embarrass me! Because you always do that to me!”

            Noiz steadies himself and crosses his arms over his chest.

            “So you really wouldn’t care if I spread it around that you and I had sex?”

            “I mean…” Koujaku doesn’t know why Noiz has suddenly become so soft and curious, but it makes him feel uneasy. “I’m a bit more private than that, but… I mean… are you asking if I’d be embarrassed to let people know I slept with you?”

            Noiz doesn’t say anything. That answers Koujaku’s question.

            All those guys before – they told him not to tell anyone. They were ashamed that they’d slept with Noiz.

            Noiz was someone to be embarrassed about.

            That’s what Noiz thinks, anyway.

            “I don’t need to have sex with you to know what to do with Aoba,” Koujaku tells him. “If I had sex with you, it would be because I wanted to have sex with _you_. Don’t have sex with anybody who pretends you’re someone else through the whole thing.”

            Noiz scoffs. He steals a pillow from the bed and throws it onto the couch and hurls himself down. Koujaku finally gets the bed that night.

            And he wakes up to breakfast on the bedside table that morning.

            This is Noiz’s way of saying thank you. Koujaku knows it. This is how Noiz tells him that he said something nice the night before. This is how Noiz appreciates him.

            Koujaku feels strangely proud to be appreciated by Noiz. Of all people. Does Noiz actually appreciate anything? This orange and cup of coffee indicate that yeah. Noiz at least sort of appreciates Koujaku.

            Koujaku gets the distinct feeling that Noiz is driving slower that day.

            They don’t even stop to eat. They sit in mostly silence with the windows down and the radio up. Koujaku pulls his hair back and Noiz blushes when he tells him he looks good like that. Koujaku smiles when Noiz screams a line of a song so loud that his voice cracks again. This is nice. This is really, really nice.

            The sun is just setting when Noiz pulls off because he sees some fireworks. Koujaku doesn’t even think to argue. He immediately sticks his head out the window to try to find where they’re coming from and they end up in a small field, the headlights off and sitting on the hood of the car looking up at the sky. The fireworks seem to last forever and Koujaku licks his lips as he looks around the wooded area.

            “This is exactly the kind of place I feel like they live.”

            Noiz looks up at him in confusion.

            “What?”

            “I feel like they live in some… cozy little cabin in the woods. They’re the only ones around for miles. They can go out and look up at the sky like this and they spend their time looking at the stars and being in love and not… thinking about me.” He feels stupid saying it. He sighs loudly and shakes his head. It still pangs in his heart to know that Aoba doesn’t think about him. That Aoba’s life in Midorijima is over. Aoba’s life is here now. Aoba’s life is with Mink. Aoba’s life is without him.

            “We can go look at the stars if you want.”

            Tears spring to Koujaku’s eyes immediately. If Noiz knew. Koujaku doesn’t know why it comes to mind now, but if Noiz knew. If Noiz knew that he was as much of a monster as he is. If Noiz knew that his dad was bad, but he was worse… if Noiz knew that Koujaku was a beast and a killer and a ticking time bomb, he wouldn’t be offering to look at the stars with him right now.

            “That’s okay. I don’t need to do that.”

            They drive on to the hotel in complete silence that night. Koujaku tries not to cry and Noiz tries not to say anything more.

            He books two different rooms for them that night. Koujaku has his own bed in his own room. Just like this trip was supposed to be.

            And suddenly it feels so lonely.

            “Are you going to call him?” Noiz asks, just before they part ways for the night in the hallway. Koujaku looks at him sadly for a moment.

            “No, I’m – I’m just going to show up,” he says. “Surprise him. It’s more romantic.”

            Noiz winces. Koujaku glares.

            “What’s your problem?”

            “Nothing, just – what if he’s with Mink?”

            “What if he is?”

            “What if…” Noiz stutters. “What if he says no?”

            “He’s not going to,” Koujaku tells him. “He’s my best friend. He wants to be with me.”

            “Then why did he leave in the first place?”

            Koujaku thrusts the keycard into his door and slams it shut angrily.

            He doesn’t even believe himself anymore. _He wants to be with me_. No he doesn’t! If Aoba wanted to be with Koujaku, he’d have told Koujaku that. He certainly wouldn’t have moved all the way over here and built a home with Mink.

            And maybe if Koujaku really loved Aoba, he wouldn’t be sneaking up on him, trying to destroy that home.

            He gets it. He really does. He understands where Noiz and Mizuki are coming from.

            But they can’t understand where _he’s_ coming from.

            He paces his hotel room that night thinking about Aoba.

            Aoba is the only person he can imagine confessing to. Aoba is the only person that he can tell. An entire life, defined by the inability to tell anyone his past, and Aoba is the only one that Koujaku can tell. Aoba’s been his best friend for as long as he can remember, and if there’s one person that has never judged him, it’s _Aoba_.

            He sits on the foot of the bed.

            Then why did he tell Noiz about his dad?

            He’s never even told Mizuki about his dad.

            He stands up again and runs his hands through his hair. It’s almost two a.m. and he really should be sleeping. They could even get there tomorrow if they really press on, but it’s not likely. Koujaku just wants this whole thing to end. He wants it to be over. And that’s depressing because he was so happy for this. He was _excited_. He was looking forward to this _experience_ but now everything is too much and Aoba is gone and Mizuki is back home and there’s only one person around –

            It’s late when he knocks on Noiz’s door, but Noiz is still awake.

            “I think I’d like to look at the stars now.”

            Noiz doesn’t even react. He doesn’t nod, or blink, or tell him no. He leaves the room and they walk to the junkyard behind the hotel and find a patch of grass to lie down in and they never speak a single word on the way there.

            And suddenly Koujaku feels relaxed.

            Noiz didn’t care. Noiz didn’t ask why he needed to come out here and look at the stars in the middle of the night.

            Noiz doesn’t judge him.

            “Do you think they’re looking at the stars?”

            “Does it matter?”

            Koujaku winces. It doesn’t. He tortures himself with this. A fleeting, invasive fantasy of meeting someone else and falling in love with them instead flashes through his mind and he realizes that no matter who he ends up with, Aoba will always be his first love. And he’ll always need Aoba in his life. No one is going to put up with that.

            “I don’t want anyone else to ever feel like second best,” he says. “I think I’m just – destined to be alone. Forever.”

            Noiz shifts and then lifts his head up to put his hands underneath it.

            “You’re not alone.”

            What a cliché thing to say.

            It’s true.

            “I know,” Koujaku says. “But I’ve never felt about anyone else the way I do about Aoba. Not even Mizuki. Aoba is just… special.”

            “Yeah.”

            “And I’m worried no one else will ever be… _as_ special.”

            “Hm.”

            “I’ve never had Aoba. It’s not like I have anything to get over. And somehow, I still can’t move on. Doesn’t that make it seem like… if I haven’t moved on by now, I never will?”

            Noiz rolls up onto his front. He lifts himself up slightly on his hands and turns his head to Koujaku. Koujaku’s eyes dart upwards and stare at him upside down.

            “When I was a kid, my mom and dad locked me away in a room and never let me out. They would beat me sometimes. And I’m pretty sure they beat my little brother. And I don’t know how to go back to save him.”

            Koujaku frowns wildly and throws himself upward.

            Well _that_ was not what he was expecting.

            “What are you talking about?” he asks incredulously.

            “I never knew people… for most of my life,” Noiz continues without skipping a beat. “It’s only been the past few years that I’ve ever really known people. I hurt everyone I touch, including my brother, so it was… for the best.”

            To say Koujaku is shocked would be an understatement. His lips move but no sound comes out. Noiz has just confessed to childhood abuse, and Koujaku suddenly doesn’t feel so alone. Which he knows is terrible, but – his dad’s tattoos flicker briefly through his mind and then he shakes his head. Noiz just explained the past year or so of Koujaku’s life: of course Noiz was so _weird_. Of course he was _difficult_. He didn’t understand how to talk to people. Koujaku’s mind is going into overdrive as everything starts to fall into place. Except –

            “Hurt people?” he asks. “Physically, you mean? What do you mean?”

            Noiz looks up at him pitifully from under his bangs.

            “I dunno. I’m a monster, I guess.”

            Koujaku’s throat goes dry.

            “…Guess we can be monsters together, then.”

            Noiz cocks his head to the side. It might be the first time Koujaku has ever seen him genuinely interested in something. Koujaku lowers himself slowly back to the ground and situates himself to stare up at the sky again. Noiz doesn’t move whatsoever.

            “My dad beat me too,” Koujaku says.

            “Really?”

            “Yeah.”

            “…So how does that make _you_ a monster?”

            Tears spring to his eyes and Koujaku bites his tongue. His entire life, he’s been sure this secret was going to spill out when he was drunk – maybe to Mizuki or even Aoba or someone he’s much closer to. Or maybe a complete stranger altogether. Never did he imagine Noiz would be the one he tells:

            “Because I killed him.”

            It’s minutes before Noiz finally moves.

            He lies back down. Koujaku thinks he might be closer than he was before.

            “Guess we’ll be monsters together,” he says, and Koujaku feels like he’s breathing for the first time in his entire life.

            He doesn’t mean to fall asleep in the grass, but he does. Maybe it’s that the weather is so comfortable or maybe it’s that he’s never felt less vulnerable in his entire life, but he wakes up cradled around Noiz and he isn’t embarrassed in the slightest. Especially since Noiz is curled up so sweetly and he fits so neatly within Koujaku’s arms, that if anyone should be embarrassed, it’s him. Koujaku hopes he wouldn’t be, though. He looks like a child, mouth slightly open and breaths slow and steady. God. He’s so innocent and Koujaku can’t believe that he’s still here.

            It takes him a few minutes to really understand that everything is different. Everything has changed.

            Noiz is not his enemy anymore. He never really was. That was always a sort of dramatic way of wording it; Koujaku just never cared, as long as it got his point across. But he’s not that anymore. Maybe after this is all over, Noiz and Koujaku will end up never talking again. Maybe they’ll shortly part ways and not even remember each other’s names. But they won’t be enemies. Something changed last night and Koujaku is shocked – relieved – grateful – that Noiz is still here.

            And that he feels safe enough to cuddle with him.

            “I couldn’t believe you didn’t take off in the middle of the night,” is all Koujaku says to him when he wakes up. He rubs his face with his hands and looks around the field, gathering himself. When he looks up at Koujaku with sleepy eyes, Koujaku’s heart skips a beat. He’s adorable. Koujaku get used to waking up to someone this cute.

            “What do you mean?”

            “After I – told you… what I told you,” Koujaku says. “About my father.”

            Noiz seems to wake up all at once. His eyes open wider and he regards Koujaku curiously, but not wearily. He’s not scared. He’s tired and interested. But not afraid.

            “That’s because I don’t think you’re a monster.”

            Koujaku stares at him.

            “I don’t think it’s the whole story,” he continues.

            Is Koujaku going to do this?

            “I don’t think you’re like me.”

            He’s going to say it.

            “I think if you were like me, I’d already know it –”

            “I killed my mother, too.”

            Noiz shuts his mouth suddenly. He still doesn’t have a trace of fear in his eyes, though he does seem a little lost for words.

            “Why?”

            “I didn’t mean to,” Koujaku says quickly. “It was just – it was… an accident. It was… all an accident.”

            Noiz shakes his head immediately.

            “See?” he says. “You’re not a monster.”

            Koujaku wants to cry. He can’t believe that Noiz can so casually take in the information that he just spent the night in the arms of a murderer. In the middle of a field, no less. And all that Noiz thinks is that _he’s_ still the monster.

            “You’re not a monster,” he says again. “Because if I killed my parents, it wouldn’t be a mistake.” Koujaku’s eyes go wide as he understands why Noiz isn’t disturbed. “I’d kill them on purpose.”

            Koujaku never meant to hurt anyone, but he did. He hurt the person he loved most – the one person he loved more than Aoba. He hated his father, but he never meant to kill him. He knows more than anyone that there may be no truth to Noiz’s words. Noiz would probably never kill his parents. But this is the first time he’s ever truly realized that he isn’t alone.

            He leans over and hugs Noiz. It’s automatic. He needs to. He needs to feel Noiz right now.

            Noiz tenses up for a moment.

            Then Koujaku feels his hands crawl up his back. He grips his shoulders. He hugs him back.

            If they hurry, they can make it all the way to Aoba tonight.

            In the car, Noiz presses Koujaku for information about his parents. In a way, Koujaku is sort of thankful. He’s never told anyone any of this before, even though he’s desperately wanted to. He doesn’t shove things into their own little rooms in his brain because he doesn’t want to talk about them: he shoves them away because he _can’t_ talk about them. He’s never known such relief in his life, really.

            “I don’t remember it,” he says. “I mean literally. I never remembered it. I blacked out when it happened. I was… out of my mind on… drugs. And rage, I guess. Not drugs that I took. They were forced on me. By my father. He was a yakuza boss and never up to any good. He’d hit my mother, and then he started to hit me. My mother was his mistress and I was his bastard son so his wife hated us both.” That’s probably enough information to throw Noiz off the trail. He really doesn’t want to mention Ryuuhou or the tattoo. Not yet, anyway. Maybe Noiz isn’t scared of his past actions, but telling him that simply being around him is dangerous might be too much. “I… killed his whole gang. And my mother. And his wife… and I can’t remember a single thing.”

            Noiz is absolutely silent. He seems to be taking it all in, but Koujaku wishes he’d say something. He’s gone from one death to two to several, and that’s still not the whole story. Koujaku would only find it fair if Noiz said he didn’t trust him. Noiz sits back in the seat as he drives and then he puts his hand on the gear stick. Koujaku looks down at it as he clenches it tight enough for his knuckles to turn white, and then it creeps to Koujaku’s seat.

            He’s trying to hold his hand.

            Koujaku looks up at him and notices an angry pink tint in his cheeks.

            Koujaku would make fun of him if he could speak.

            He grabs his hand and sighs in relief. He grips it tight, hoping Noiz understands just how important this is to him. The silence is deafening, and he wants the attention off him. He thought this would be a much more detailed conversation, but Noiz isn’t responding at all.

            “Do you really think you’d kill your family?” he asks. Noiz shakes his head immediately.

            “Not family,” he says. “I never said family. _Parents_. I would never hurt my brother again.”

            “Again?”

            Noiz’s lips press together tightly and Koujaku knows he’s not going to say another word.

            But he does. An hour later:

            “Why am I here?”

            Koujaku is staring out the window, daydreaming about waking up with someone in his arms again. It was a good feeling. It was different than the one night stands. The idea of having someone with him like that every morning… it’s so nice. But Noiz shakes him from the fantasy.

            “What?”

            “I don’t know what I’m doing here,” he says, eyes fixed on the road in front of him. “You have Aoba. And when he rejects you, you have Mizuki. You have Beni Shigure. You have friends. I don’t know why I came. I’m here for nothing. I have nothing. No one gives a shit about me. I don’t have anything to go back to. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter whether I go back or stay here. No one will care.”

            Koujaku frowns as Noiz’s words sink in. He looks from the road to Noiz back to the road, then to the floor. Then back to Noiz. He shakes his head.

            “Pull off.”

            “What?”

            “Pull off. Here. At this exit. Pull off. Go to this hotel.”

            Noiz does as he’s told. They’re silent as he pulls into a parking spot at the hotel a few minutes later. He looks over at Koujaku and waits for him to speak.

            “I’m here for nothing, too,” he says. It sounds like an admission, but it’s more of an epiphany. An epiphany that was always on the tip of his brain that he was trying not to have. “He’s happy with Mink. You’re right. Mizuki’s right, everyone’s right. He doesn’t love me.” Koujaku shakes his head. “Not like that. Not the way I want him to.”

            “What did you want out of this trip?” Noiz asks. Koujaku looks upwards to stymie the tears.

            “I just…” Koujaku shrugs as he searches for the right words. “I just… I just wanted to… find someone who wants me to love them.”

            Noiz’s breath hitches.

            “That’s really gay,” he says. Koujaku turns to him.

            “And you wanted what?” he asks. “To annoy the fuck out of me?”

            Noiz’s eyes are the same as they were in the field that morning, only a little more hurt. As if Koujaku doesn’t really understand him at all, even after all this time.

            “I just wanted to find someone who didn’t think I was a monster.”

            Koujaku’s heart almost stops. He rolls his lips inwards and looks at the hotel door. He shakes his head and neither of them speaks for several seconds.

            “…I don’t think we should go the rest of the way.”

            “What are you talking about?”

            “I think we should go home. We should… get a ticket back home tonight. Or stay here tonight and go home tomorrow. We should go back to Midorijima. Together.”

            “Are you serious? You came all this way and now you’re not even going to tell him that you were here?”

            “No,” Koujaku says loudly, more to himself than to Noiz. “Wanting Aoba to love me back was superficial. It… it would have been nice. Fuck, that’s an understatement, it would have been everything I ever wanted. But it’s not… the _only_ thing I wanted. It’s not… I just… I want to connect with someone. I want to be able to tell someone everything about myself and not… lose them.” He stares down at his feet. “I want to tell someone who I really am and not be terrified that they’ll be gone the next day.”

            Noiz’s breath hitches again.

            “But… you told me,” he says, as if it’s finally dawning on him. Koujaku looks at him dumbly. “You told me who you are. And I didn’t leave.”

            Koujaku stares at him.

            “And I never thought you were a monster.”

            It makes sense to kiss Noiz just then, though Koujaku isn’t sure why. Then again, Noiz is actually the one who leans in first, and leans in _fast_. He grabs Koujaku’s cheeks and pulls him close, and kissing someone over a car console is awkward. Koujaku whispers against Noiz’s cheek that he’s never had to literally get a room before as they stumble into a bed together, too frenzied to bring in their bags. It’s only early afternoon but Noiz is warm and playful and rough and sweet and doesn’t know everything about Koujaku yet, but Koujaku supposes that’s okay. It’s not like he knows everything about Noiz yet, either. Maybe this will be the only time they ever have sex. Maybe they’ll get back to Midorijima and regret it all. Maybe in two days, Koujaku will call Aoba and confess to him then and maybe Aoba will come back to Midorijima and maybe Koujaku will still have his _happily ever after_ with him.

            But a _happily right now_ with Noiz is fine, too.

            In fact, Koujaku thinks he prefers it.

 

            (When they do get back to Midorijima, Mizuki asks if he’s okay and if he needs to take a few days to himself. Koujaku looks at him like he’s an idiot.

            “Why would I need to do that?”

            “Because it didn’t go the way you thought it would?” he asks. Koujaku continues to stare at him. He’s right. It didn’t go the way he thought it would – rather, what he thought was going to happen didn’t end up happening.

            “All I wanted was to tell someone who I really am and how I really feel,” he says. “It went exactly as planned.”)


End file.
